


e.lf

by Lucifer_Rosemaunt



Series: AU erik [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Rosemaunt/pseuds/Lucifer_Rosemaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas spirit comes in many different forms.  Modern!AU.  Where Raoul’s rich (obviously), Christine and Meg are theatre/dance students, and Erik is a reclusive artist with a deformity (as he is wont to be in every universe). Erik/Raoul preslash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, of course I’d start a random series. It’s not like I have other fics not completed yet. This is my quasi-Christmas fic since you probably won’t be getting a real POTO-verse Christmas fic. Apologies for that. The Christmas!plotbunnies have not been very active. Also, it’s coming in three parts even though I may post it all in one day. Hopefully. Or one week.
> 
> Story note: The summary is pretty accurate. Also, it’s not that long of a fic and doesn’t delve too deeply into this verse. It just is.

o.o.o.o

"Nadir."

Erik stopped glaring at his only friend and sometimes agent just long enough to glance up at the oversized Christmas ornaments that hung from the ceiling of the mall, briefly wondering how many shoppers they could take out given the right circumstances.

Admittedly, it was an unkind thought given that November was barely ending and the mall was thankfully still rather sparse. The holiday rush to buy presents had yet to arrive in full swing; only the few, usual Wednesday night shoppers were milling about.

The holiday season, on the other hand, was very much present and insinuated into every aspect of the mall. Every store window held red and green tinsel, fake snow, reindeer cutouts, and gingerbread houses in various stages of construction. The fake palm trees were wrapped in colorful lights and potted plants replaced by a veritable topiary of similarly fake firs. Christmas carols played through the tinny speakers and the smell of peppermint and gingerbread clung to the air persistently as all the holiday coffees followed the onset of the end of Thanksgiving.

All in all, Erik could think of a million other places he would rather be, one place in particular being his studio away from both curious stares and holiday cheer.

"What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean, what are we doing here?" Nadir did not bother looking over his shoulder. He knew Erik would follow him; it was not as though he could leave. He was the one who had driven the recluse of a man to the mall. If he were crueler, he would have simply dropped Erik off and then left him. "You have been threatening me the past two weeks to find the whereabouts of your wayward benefactor. If you had…"

"No one is my benefactor." Erik strode faster to walk to Nadir's left, bumping his shoulder in response. "It is a small gallery and a single show. He is paying for my art, not me."

"Small gallery?" Nadir scoffed. "Face it, Erik. You are now a kept man." His next step faltered when from his peripheral vision he saw Erik cringe away from the passing young couple who were too caught up in themselves to notice anyone but each other. "Stop ducking like that. You're only making yourself more noticeable." They had passed a mother and her children earlier that almost made Nadir regret bringing Erik at this time of day, but he was not about to mention that. "There aren't even that many people."

"There are enough," Erik retorted even as he stopped ducking his head, angling it towards Nadir in hopes that the other man would be able to block anyone's prying eyes from his mask. "Where are you taking me?"

"Well," Nadir grinned, glad that Erik had finally asked, "I did some investigating." In another lifetime, he would have loved to have been a private eye. He was good at finding information and people. In this lifetime though, he usually only used those skills to find artists, their agents, and investors. "I needed to figure out your benefactor's schedule since tracking him down lately has been near impossible."

"You stalked him," Erik interjected.

Nadir scowled. "Do you want to know how much trouble I went through to do you the favor of finding him or what?"

Erik was silent for a moment, as though seriously considering otherwise before nodding his head. "Go on."

"Well, I had to ask around what with his secret holiday schedule and him never having the time of day to speak with me much less meet with you, and can you believe he doesn't even have a personal assistant or anything?" He did not wait for Erik to respond. "The secretary at the office he's never at managed to let it slip that he comes here in the afternoon and well, I came on Monday."

Erik paused, grabbing his arm. "You've known since Monday that this is where he's been and yet you still kept it secret from me."

"It's been two days and it is your fault that you haven't met the man," Nadir replied. A tilt of his head was the only indication he gave before walking again. "He set up three appointments in November, trying to see and you were too busy each time."

"I was busy," Erik replied. He was always busy when he needed to be, and he did not know how to tell Nadir that he had not been ready to see his supposed benefactor just yet. "There was no reason then to speak with him with the gallery show so far away. I already know he's interested. He's allowing me several pieces in his gallery. What else was there to say?"

"Yes," Nadir said slowly, looking at him closely. "Then, there is a reason now?"

Erik refused to meet his eyes and walked just a little bit faster.

Shaking his head, Nadir let the question slide for the time being. "Well, you will not like where..."

A single gasp was his only warning before he was jerked to the side and slammed into a fake palm tree, the lights digging into his back.

"What?" he winced and looked around to see if anyone had seen the sudden movement. It probably looked like he was being robbed, and he almost hoped someone looked scandalized. Fortunately for Erik, no one was around.

The masked man kept him pinned there for a moment before he peered around the tree and said a single word that explained everything.

"Christine."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 01

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Fic Review: I like Nadir. These two have a complicated relationship. Nadir works in a gallery that Erik once had the opportunity to have art in and they're friends in a rough sense of the word. If you were wondering, Erik does drive but Nadir likes making him depend on him for stuff sometimes just to torture him since Erik's a control freak. :D And he forced Erik to be his passenger by not telling him where they were going.


	2. Chapter 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Christmas is over. Fantastic. (sarcasm) Sorry this is not all that great. It’s just pissing me off since it’s been sitting in its first draft form on my computer since day 1. I’m done with this story. So. Done.
> 
> Story note: In what universe do Christine and Raoul not have a past? None I can think of yet (well, except for that one I wrote where they don’t).

o.o.o.o

Quickly covering her mouth as she pretended to clear her throat, Christine tried to hide her amusement as Meg, who looked completely baffled by the sheer volume of paper products, dragged her out of the card store. Luckily, the shorter blonde was too busy looking for the next store to go into that she did not notice anything amiss.

“Who purchases greeting cards nowadays anyway?” Meg scoffed and pulled Christine tight against her side, looping their arms together. “I do not know how that store stays open.”

“I thought the ornaments were rather pretty,” Christine commented but did not spare a look back. They had gone into every store on this floor so far without having purchased a single item. It was kind to her wallet but less so on the Christmas list she still had tucked in her pocket. Either way, she simply could not bring herself to care because as she glanced at the smile on Meg’s face, she knew that her mission had been a success.

Nearly an hour since arriving at the mall, her best friend had finally relaxed enough to start enjoying herself. She even began showing interest in some of the stores. It had been near impossible living with Meg these past few weeks what with the end of their semester and the Christmas show looming on the horizon. When she had not been overly critical about everyone and especially herself, she had been trying to change costumes, sets and even transitions, all things over which she had no absolutely no control. Christine had taken it upon herself to make sure none of them lost their minds and Meg did not lose her life – if the glares of the other girls were any indication of what was to come if something did not change.

There was something soothing about the mall during this time of year, right before the rush of last minute shoppers and blowout sales, and Christine was glad that it was working its magic. Nothing smelled more like the season, and Christmas music never failed to make her smile. Meg was also the kind of friend who was never embarrassed when she ended up singing along to all the holiday songs. Meg simply joined her and waved cheerfully at anyone who stared at them. Coming here had been the right decision.

So far, Christine had given Meg free rein as to where they were going. When they started to make a beeline towards Santa’s workshop however, she could not help but try to steer her friend in another direction.

Meg had a surprisingly strong grip on her arm though and they did not even slightly divert from their course. "We _have_ to take a picture with him."

"With Santa?" Christine asked, hoping she had mistaken her intent.

"Who else?” She laughed in response and kept walking straight through the children’s play area towards the red, faux-velvet line for pictures with the jolly man. “It'll be great. You love Christmas and all the other girls at the dorm will be so jealous.”

"I do love Christmas,” she admitted and did not try to argue Meg’s second point, knowing it to be futile. Christine did not know a single girl in that dormitory who would be jealous, but Meg’s smile was enough to make any attempts to dissuade her half-hearted at best. “But I don’t know if this is age appropriate. There's a line already."

Despite it being so early in the season, there were four children and their parents in line. The entire workshop, although already fully set up, only consisted of Santa and two elves, a female one behind the camera who looked less than pleased to be present and a male who was crouched beside the next child in line, face hidden by the parent. Christine guessed that he looked just as displeased to be there though. She winced, feeling for the poor man who was dressed in the tight costume. He was not wearing tights but it was a very close thing and his tunic, though looser, was just barely long enough to keep the costume child appropriate. For his sake, she tried to keep her eyes averted.

"Come on.” Meg nearly skipped into place at the end of the line, dragging Christine along. “It'll be great. You can tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

Christine gave her a quick unamused look before ducking her head, hoping to make them stand out less. She knew once Meg put her mind to something, trying to convince her otherwise would be near impossible. Secretly, she smiled to herself. “I am not,” she cleared her throat with a toss of her hair, expression serious when she continued, “sitting on his lap.”

As expected, Meg smiled wider but smoothed her expression just long enough to deadpan, “That is an acceptable compromise” and they shook hands on it. Immediately after, Meg giggled loud enough to garner the attention of the father in front of them.

He was a man in his early thirties and Christine smiled weakly at him. He was handsome, but the indulgent smile he gave her only reminded her of her father and a time when she had been in this line grabbing onto his hand and getting ready to ask Santa for ballet shoes and singing lessons. Her own smile faltered but he had already turned away, his son having tugged on his hand to garner his attention. The boy looked about five and wore a Lightning McQueen sweater. His shoes lit up as he bounced on his toes trying to keep Santa in sight, as though he thought the second he looked away Santa would disappear.

"Dad. Dad.” He tugged harder on his father’s hand. “Are we next?"

"No, son.” The father picked him up but instead of being appeased with the better view, the boy squirmed and kicked until his father had no other choice but to put him back down. “You know we have to wait until the people in front of us go first."

The boy sighed loudly but did not ask again. He kept bouncing and stared longingly at the workshop house and the general direction of Santa until they reached the front of the line.

Meg looked almost as eager at the Santa and whispered to Christine, “At least he looks like the real thing. Really. All the girls will love this picture. Maybe we should get everyone together to take one, then we can post it in the program.”

The sound of jingling distracted Christine from Meg’s series of ideas and she tried not to gasp too loudly when she saw the elf who crouched in front of the little boy. Immediately after, she wondered if there was any way to escape.

"Hey, kiddo,” the elf greeted even though the boy had yet to look away from Santa. The cheer in his voice did not abate for a moment. “Have you been good this year?"

The boy frowned when he saw the girl on Santa’s lap pull on the old man’s beard, worried for a moment. He was as relieved as the girl when the beard stayed put but frowned when it looked like she began to whisper in earnest to him, wondering just how long it would take for her to finish.

The father tapped his head, derailing his train of thoughts. “Santa’s helper is speaking with you.”

The boy nodded distractedly.

"Well, that's good,” the elf replied, undaunted by his lack of cooperation. He knew exactly how to get the child’s attention. “Now, do you know what you want Santa to bring you this year?"

Finally the boy looked at him and once he did, he froze. "You really do work for Santa, don't you?"

The elf smiled widely at him. "Of course I do. What would make you think otherwise?"

Pointedly, the boy looked past him at the woman behind the camera. "But the other elf."

"Oh, well, my friend there is only filling in today.” The elf whispered conspiratorially, “And, she only got one marshmallow in her hot chocolate this morning. That's the only reason she looks so grumpy.  You would be grumpy, too." He grinned and spoke louder, "Now, when you finally get to talk to the big guy there, try to tell Santa your top three things.” He held up three fingers. “He expects to receive a letter from you too you know."

"Only three?" The boy looked devastated.

"Well, if every little boy and girl told Santa _every_ gift they wanted, how would everyone be able to see him?" He continued in a whisper, "He knows anyway. In fact, he asked me to make sure everyone in line is a good boy or girl so that he knows his list is right." Holding both hands behind his back, he said, "Now guess which hand I am holding a gift in."

The boy looked rather worried for a moment and thought about it quite hard. He even looked up at his father for help but only received a shrug in response. Taking a deep breath, he stared at the elf harder before saying, "Your right" as a harsh exhale.

The elf gasped. "The right? Are you sure?"

The boy's eyes widened in worry before he slowly nodded. 

"Well," he pulled his left hand out from behind him and slowly opened it to reveal a plastic lump of coal. "That must mean," he revealed his right hand, which had a candy cane and a toy car. "Right is right.  You must have been very good because only good boys and girls get the hand with the gifts. And look.” He stood up and pointed over his shoulder. “Santa's ready to see you."

The boy glanced up at his father only long enough to get a small nod before grabbing the toy car and candy from the elf and running to Santa.

His father patted the elf on the shoulder. "Thanks."

The elf smiled at the child on Santa's lap who was already showing the goodies he had received. 

"Now, who is next to…" the elf trailed off. "Christine? Meg?"

"Raoul?" Meg said, surprised, just realizing that the elf had been him. She looked at Christine, who looked helplessly at her best friend and hoped her face was not too red from the blush she knew was there. It was not as though she had come to the mall expecting to run into him, especially not in this particular circumstance.

Christine bit her bottom lip to keep herself from speaking. Meg did not have the same compulsion.

"What are you doing here?"

Raoul looked down at the clothes he was wearing. "I'm an elf?"

"We can see that." Meg stuck her tongue out at him and placed her hands on her hips. "I mean, why?"

"It's Christmas?" Raoul replied slowly.

Christine hid her smile while Meg sighed loudly. "Don’t be difficult, Raoul. You have a real job."

“This is a real job, too,” he replied, seemingly insulted by the insinuation that it was not. He was quick to recover though asking, "You're here to see Santa?"

Meg nodded. “Of course. Why else would we be here?”

When Raoul looked to her for confirmation, Christine nodded mutely. She could not seem to convince herself to stop blushing, embarrassed at being caught here even though he did not seem all that critical of their presence, as though it was normal for any individual over the age of ten to want to speak with Santa. She knew she should not have expected any less considering that not many people would willingly work as an elf either.

He merely smiled wider and asked, "Now, have you two young ladies been good this year?"

"Of course," Meg was quick to reply, and he laughed.

It was odd to see Raoul in such an outfit when they usually saw him in his tailored suit and ugly ties, which admittedly only made him look more handsome. There was something about him like this that, while not as equally as handsome, was more endearing. 

"You know it's not good to lie.” Raoul smirked at her. “Santa knows."

Glad to be momentarily overlooked from the conversation, Christine took her time looking over Raoul. His shirt was cinched tight with a brown belt that had several cloth pouches holding what she could only presume was all the candy canes and gifts he had been handing out. His shoes were pointed with bells on the tips of them and his hat sat snugly behind his pointed ears. She belatedly realized that it had to have been the ears that must have convinced the little boy in front of them that he was in fact one of Santa’s helpers. They were not the fake ones of the woman behind the camera. They had to be prosthetic, Raoul having gone the extra mile to get expensive ones, and she grinned at how it well they suited him.

"I tried harder this year," Meg conceded.

He nodded to himself. "Okay. We'll see just how truthful you are." Holding both his hands behind his back, he said, "Pick a hand."

Meg tried to peek behind him but he gracefully turned to block her every time, jingling with every step he took. 

"If I get a coal, Raoul…" she threatened. 

He just raised an eyebrow at her. “Which hand?”

She crossed her arms in front of her and scrunched her nose in thought. "Right."

"The right?" He pretended to bring his hand out.

"No wait. Left.” Meg shouted, “No! Right."

Christine tried to move a little closer to Santa’s workshop and ducked her head, wondering just how many more people would start to look at them. She was almost envious at how easily Raoul and Meg ignored the extra attention.

Raoul slowly brought his right hand in front of him.

"What? I don't even get the left hand reveal?” She scolded, “Raoul de Chagny if you're showing me a lump of coal, I will sick Maman on you. Truly, she will…" She stopped speaking abruptly when he opened his hand. There was a piece of chocolate and a rubber ducky keychain. She squeaked and grabbed the gifts from his hand.

"Where did you even get this?" She looked behind him to see if there was a container of toys, but she knew he would not have had the time to reach behind him during their conversation. "How did you…?"

"And you?" Raoul intentionally ignored her and let her continue trying to figure out from where the toys came. "Have you been good?"

"I have tried to be good,” Christine replied. She smiled at Meg's antics, smiled at Raoul and how smug he looked even in his ridiculous outfit. They had tried to be with each other before and there were moments when she wondered why they ever stopped trying. Unsurprisingly, this was one of those moments. Instead of dwelling on those thoughts though, she pulled Meg away from further harassing him and looped her arm around hers to keep her still at least for a moment. 

“But…” Meg tried to reason with her.

“I know.” Christine patted her arm, knowing that Raoul was just loving her reaction. “You love ducks.” It was a fact that everyone who knew Meg knew. She did briefly wonder if him having the keychain was simply coincidence.

Raoul put both hands behind his back once more. "And which hand will you choose?"

"Did you know we were coming?" Meg interrupted.

Christine shook her head and laughed.

“Did you know…?” Meg asked again, but Christine cut her off.

"Your right hand."

"Hm, the right hand is a very popular choice right now," he said conspiratorially to the child in line behind them who was watching them eagerly. He pulled his hand forward and instead of showing it palm up, he held it palm down waiting for Christine to hold her hand out. When he finally opened his hand, an ornament of a tiny bear dressed as a dancer dropped down. 

Meg gasped. "You definitely knew we were coming. When did you see us?"

He placed the bear in Christine's hand and she blushed at the warmth in not only his hand but in his gaze.

The moment passed quickly enough though as he stood to the side. "I believe Santa's ready to see you.” He gestured past him. “Santa's other elf will gladly help you."

“This is not over, Chagny. You will tell me your secrets,” Meg continued to glare at him as Christine pulled her towards Santa.

He spared a moment to grin at Christine in response before crouching down to entertain the next child, his attention fully on the little girl who could not stop talking about the pony she wanted to get from Santa. The mother looked worn down and Raoul smiled, knowing he had just the thing that would make her smile.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 02

A/N: Don’t forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Fic Review: I would totally ship Christine and Meg and in my brain, I think I do a little even though it never comes out onto the pages I write. I think that might be because I sort of like the idea of Meg marrying a Baron. Don’t ask me why. That’s just the way it is.

As ridiculous as Raoul looks in his outfit, you know that he’s still handsome as all hell.  Also, what was with that bit of Raoul/Christine in there? It just happens sometimes. Honestly, I believe they’re a cute couple (blasphemy, I know), but in the way of sweethearts. (Wow, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. At some point, those words would have never crossed my mind much less come out as written words.)

Also, my theory for Christine is that she doesn’t like unwanted attention. Don’t get me wrong. She likes attention, but she likes to control when that attention happens. She is still slightly too used to being in the background right now, too used to being overshadowed even though she’s talented.


	3. Chapter 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Faster update because it simply needed to be finished. (Come on, Christmas fic in April? Let’s be real.) BONUS included post fic. (Although I guess you can’t really call it a bonus)
> 
> Story note: Also, there’s not enough meat to this story. This is literally the last chapter. Don’t ask why. It was supposed to be a oneshot, technically, but then stuff happened. And somehow, I love this ‘verse that they’re living in anyway.

o.o.o.o

Erik did not know why he was still in the mall. Every single facet of the place grated on his nerves from the crowds to the insipid music, from the hard bench he was still sitting on to Santa’s workshop, a location that he may have kept in sight ever since arriving, not to mention the uninspired architecture and tacky decorations. It was the worst.

Christine had long since left with her friend and Erik should have left then. It was always a mixture of pleasure and anxiety when she was around, especially coming across her so unexpectedly. Nadir had been entirely unamused with being manhandled because Erik had felt that concealment was the correct response upon seeing her. Christine was, he was certain, still too kind and too good for him. He would speak to her on his own terms, but he did not fool himself into believing that Nadir would not be giving him a familiar lecture about his shortcomings. Surprisingly enough, the only response he had was to mutter something about _one social inadequacy at a time_. Erik could not even bring himself to feel insulted; the truth was hardly offensive.

Instead of a lecture though, Nadir simply decided to abandon him, taking away his only option home besides public transportation. He _had_ said to call him on his cell phone when he decided to finally stop _obsessing over your benefactor_ , but Erik considered it an abandonment regardless. Hours later and having had time to consider Nadir’s words, Erik had to concede that perhaps the other man had been right and maybe he knew exactly why he was still in the mall.

The boy, the Chagny, his benefactor, whatever title he might hold, Erik simply could not seem to take his eyes off of him.

The elf prancing about Santa's workshop, chasing children around, charming both parents and children alike was a Chagny. Children had stayed behind in order to speak with him, more enchanted with him than with Santa Claus and maybe a little hopeful that they would receive more toys and candy. There was a play area just outside of the line. Fake snow covered the floor along with pine trees and snowmen. Santa's sleigh was a plastic hulk, nailed to the floor with a large bag of toys that doubled as a slide down the back. Large alphabet blocks were there for children to climb. The parents would sit on the benches that surrounded the area while the children flocked to the elf that seemed to embody the Christmas spirit. When there was no one in line, Raoul would join them in their games, shoes jingling as he ran around blocks and the sled and as he made snow angels.

Erik watched and could not understand why no one found it odd. At least, he should have wondered. A young man in an elf suit playing with children? It was something out of a crime show, but the parents kept a watchful eye and Raoul was never able to play very long since Santa's visitors came in small but steady groups. Maybe it was because he kept his distance well enough. He seemed more like a babysitter or a big brother than a stranger though. He was too open, laughed too loudly and smiled too widely. 

This was a man who owned several successful art galleries from downtown to museum row by the promenade, and by the time Erik realized he should stop staring at the young elf, the mall was nearly empty and Santa's workshop was closing down. What was worse was that he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had lost sight of him. The already familiar jingle of shoes just behind the workshop confirmed that the elf was still there though.

Erik stood up and took a single step towards the display. A few shopping stragglers were left but there were more employees just waiting for another hour before the mall truly closed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and texted Nadir to pick him up. It would take at least the next thirty minutes before he arrived and in that time, Erik could be productive. He could walk that short distance and introduce himself as one of the artists that Raoul was currently promoting in his gallery. And if he had to, he could explain that his intention had not been to spy on him for an entire afternoon. There was an oil painting waiting for him at his studio. He should have been working, but he had needed the reprieve. He had simply needed to know. Lately, every time he tried to work, all he could think about was the next time Raoul de Chagny was going to try to meet with him and why he had stopped trying in the first place.

Nadir thought that he had been too busy with his work, too engrossed, too – as Nadir put it – grouchy to do anything that dealt with people who did not know him. It was rude to ignore a patron when he requested a meeting, but in his case, not wholly uncommon, not enough to make the agent think anything was truly awry. Erik had not divulged that he had already previously seen Raoul, had known what he looked like, had researched everything the internet had to provide on him. He had not explained that he’d wanted to avoid meeting personally, mostly because he did not fully understand the reasons himself.

This would not be the first time that he been caught in long moments of just watching the emotions play across the blond’s face. It had simply been in an entirely different context and for a significantly shorter time.

Months ago, Erik had been at the opening of a small gallery, one not owned by the Chagnys. He hated gallery openings in downtown but could not help surreptitiously lingering around the hall that contained the single painting he had been allowed to hang. The publicity had been successful and a rather large crowd had shown. There was very little room to maneuver about, but at least in these circumstances, he could be invisible, blend and pretend to look at others’ works. He could easily pick out the art aficionados, the people who wandered in simply because they were curious about the crowd, the ones there for the alcohol, and the ones there for recognition. He always tried not to sneer at the latter group; Nadir said it was bad for business, but Erik despised them, the ones who enjoyed art intentionally overtly. They were the ones who constantly frequented these openings to be seen as they tittered to each other. Their ideas needed to be not only vocal but convoluted and forcefully philosophical when the simplest of truths might have been more insightful. It was a mixed blessing because given the right circumstance, the right sell, the right peer pressure and his painting might have gotten sold.

After an hour, it became obvious that his painting was not groundbreaking enough to be of interest to any of them. He was about to leave to find another glass of champagne when he noticed someone actually stopping for longer than the requisite couple of minutes in front of his painting. The man looked young but rich. The black suit he wore was tailored and accessorized with a tire-printed tie that should have been gauche but was so dark it blended in rather well until you came close enough to notice it. His short hair was slightly messy – not the kind of style where it was intentionally done so, but like he’d had a long day and decided to take a moment to rest. And he had decided to do so in front of Erik’s painting. His expression was one of wonder, eyes trying to take in every feature and his lips slightly apart, the corners of which quirked up slightly. There may have been a little more moisture in his eyes than was normal but it could have also been the lighting. Erik had stared at him for long moments, almost wanting to paint that very image, but he came to his senses eventually and pushed through the crowds to find Nadir.

Said man had later relayed that Raoul had admitted to being moved by his work, and perhaps Erik’s reticence to meet him in the time between had been to avoid ruining the image he had of that particular moment. He had not been able to put brush to canvas or pencil to paper to capture it. He simply let it play in his mind, a single moment frozen in time and space where he _could_ linger and observe. Yet, when Raoul finally did desist in making appointments, Erik had wanted more.

Unexpectedly, even after seeing Raoul in an elf costume, the memory was not ruined. It was only augmented with something that made Erik take another step towards the workshop before he shook his head and began to walk the other way rapidly. When Nadir arrived, he would tell him to try harder to set up an appointment with Raoul tomorrow or next week, just to get it done. They could not have a meeting here.

He had only taken several steps when he heard a flurry of bells chase after him, and he fought the urge to walk faster. 

"Sir."

It was the first time that Erik had heard his voice and he stopped. Turning only halfway, he hoped to keep his mask mostly hidden from view.

The jingling stopped nearby and sure enough, Raoul was slightly breathless and looked unsure of himself. His smile was only half of what Erik had witnessed throughout the afternoon. 

"Yes?" Erik asked, biting the word off at the end when he heard how annoyed he sounded. The only person he was really annoyed with was himself.

"Well," Raoul ducked his head, "You looked like you've been waiting to see Santa all afternoon…"

Erik wanted to kill himself then. He had hoped to have gone unnoticed and could not help but wonder just how long Raoul had seen him sitting and watching him. It was a blessing the young man had not thought he had been present for a more sinister reason. 

Raoul was continuing despite Erik’s inner turmoil. "And I know you think others might find it odd for an adult to talk to Santa, but you know, some wishes can only come true after you've spoken them aloud."

"I didn't come to see Santa," he interrupted. He was not sure what was worse: Raoul knowing he had been there the entire time to watch him or Raoul thinking he had been there to speak with a man dressed up as Santa Claus.

"Ah," Raoul said, nodding to himself. He gave Erik one of those easy smiles he had used on everyone coming to visit Santa. "Well, I still cannot let you leave without receiving the gift he wanted to give you."

Erik rolled his eyes. He could at least now match the tone of voice the elf had used to what he had witnessed the entire afternoon. He sounded so convinced of his own lie that Erik’s immediate reaction was to say, " _Santa_ ” – he fought against the urge to do air quotes – “didn't know I was here and you don’t need to play this little game with me." He turned to leave but the single jingle of a footstep following him made him stop. He almost let his head hang down in defeat. "You're not going to let me go until I play this silly game with you, are you?"

Raoul laughed, and so close, it was a sound to relish in.

Erik turned fully and waited for the reaction of him seeing his mask. When there was none, he almost felt disappointed and instead, he held out his hand. "You might as well just give me the lump of coal right now. That’s what you’ve been doing, right?"

"Nuh-uh.” Raoul grinned. “Now, left or right?"

Erik was so focused on his smile that it took him a second to notice that Raoul had placed both his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat before answering, "Left."

"Rebel," Raoul fondly said to himself.

"Raoul!”

The elf turned his head at the sound of his name.

“I need your key for this!" The shout from the other elf actually startled Erik, making him realize he had been staring rather intently. He averted his eyes quickly.

"I'm coming!" Raoul yelled back before turning his attention back on Erik, smiling apologetically to him. "Sorry about that,” he said with a shrug. “Santa's cash register needs to be closed. Now where were we?"

Erik held out his hand expectantly, still refusing to make eye contact. He had embarrassed himself enough for one day and staring at Raoul was quickly becoming something he could not avoid doing. 

"Ah, yes."

What fell into his grasp jingled slightly. 

"Merry Christmas, Erik," he said before jogging back to the workshop, jingling as he went.

Erik was so fascinated by the small ornament angel bell that had been placed on his hand, all white garbed and shining gold that he barely realized Raoul had called him by his name. 

"Wh-" he started but the elf only looked over his shoulder and waved, disappearing behind a fake Christmas tree.

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: Don’t forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Fic Review: head!canon? Erik can be a coward sometimes. I don’t think he would have ever decided to approach Raoul even though he really wants to. Although, his track record with approaching people is kind of abysmal, so I understand why.  

And of course Raoul carries around little rubber duckies and angel bells and miniature candy canes because the large ones are too much for the kids. He has jacks and magnets and planes and cars and large bouncy balls and stress balls for the parents and he tries not to bring loud things that'll just stress them out more than necessary. Those pouches jingle and whack him when he runs but it doesn't matter because he gets to see kids smile and sometimes he goes home mad at himself because he didn't think to bring those plastic bracelets he saw in the store or the army men because they wouldn't all fit in his pouches and he has to make these hard choices in the afternoon when he goes to his second job since he can't bring them all.  And they have to be small but they can't be too small because then the kids will choke on them. But he wants to and he's been clumsily sewing pockets on the inside of his elf costume so that he can fit more things, but he knows he's been making a mess of it all. His favorite, hands down, are the bells. He loves the sound of them, on his shoes, on his hat, in his pockets, and it makes him feel like Christmas is really here because a bell sounds more like the music of Christmas than any song he has ever heard. He always has them on hand even though he keeps them mostly for himself. Giving them to children would only annoy their parents after all.

Also, of course Raoul knows what Erik looks like, and he’s just basically ruined Erik for anyone else in life with his laugh and his smile and the fact that he may be the only person in the world that might convince Erik not to hate the season entirely. And Erik does get Nadir to set up that appointment and they do meet and for some reason, Erik hates the suit that Raoul wears to the meeting because he’s somehow restrained within it and his smile, though still wide is not as radiant as it is in the mall surrounded by fake snow. And, Erik’s never been to the mall half as much in his entire life than he is in the next few weeks. But he finds reasons and he hates the new trend of teenage girls fawning all over his elf. He tries not to be too smug when they’re all rebuffed and he’s found time and again (even though he changes where exactly he watches Raoul from, just because maybe he likes the thought of Raoul chasing after him and he’s grown accustomed to the sound of bells coming from behind him) and he has coffee with Santa’s elf on a regular basis and at the end of each night he receives another bell from those pouches and Erik goes home, not sleeping, just painting, drawing, sculpting because the world and life and emotions keep building within him enough that he feels he may burst if he does not somehow express it all and on the last day that Raoul gets to be an elf, he asks him left or right hand and reveals an empty hand and Erik is inexplicably disappointed even though he claims to hate every single trinket he receives (although they’re kept in a drawer by Erik’s bed so that he can look at them whenever he wants to. He likes the sound they make when he opens the drawer), but then Raoul places that empty hand against his cheek and Erik receives the best gift ever, a kiss. It’s just a kiss on the cheek and maybe it was just pity since it had come up in one of their previous conversations that Erik had never been kissed before, but maybe it means something more, something else and Erik cannot wait to find out.

And Erik does love Christine, but the love she inspires in him is one that backlashes. It makes him feel unworthy and ugly and he could never be good for her even though she is still kind to him, even though she smiles at him with that gentle look of hers and thanks him with a hug after their lessons are done, but Raoul, with Raoul it’s different. It’s so different because while his love for Christine made him fall into himself – making it selfish and violent and menacing – what he feels towards Raoul drags him out (sometimes kicking and screaming), out of the black hole that is his own thoughts and that’s the only way to describe it. Raoul makes him forget to think and all he can do is react and act and do whatever it takes to get his attention, to garner a smile or a laugh or another touch. And it’s frustrating and he does get violent sometimes, lashes out at Raoul because of what he does to him and yet he’s forgiven time and again. And in the end, it makes him think that maybe it’s okay to be so very flawed.

Honestly, I just wanted Raoul in an elf outfit and this is what happened. :) Everything else is just icing on the cake, but I figured you deserved something since it took me nearly half a year to finish this fic. Also, that bonus may be longer than the actual chapter. Fantastic.


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